


These Rude Awakenings

by vocallywritten



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Also known as the one where everyone is accusing Gilbert Blythe, Confused Gilbert Blythe, Determined Diana Barry, Exhausted By This Bull Shit Bash Lacroix, F/M, Featuring, Smart Woman Winifred Rose, Tbh he might deserve it in these specific cases, and Anne ‘I have a lot of feels I would rather just ignore tbh’ Shirley-Cuthbert, certified Soft Boi, of having poor manners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 02:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21468901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vocallywritten/pseuds/vocallywritten
Summary: Different ways Anne and Gilbert sort things out and finally get together, and all the people who set them straight.Post 3x08A collection of separate one shots that show four different ways the Feelings Reveal (tm) could go.Chapter One: Winnie should be a detectiveChapter Two: Diana Barry runs a marathon and has her bestie's backChapter Three: Train station confessionsChapter Four: Pens and proposals
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Winifred Rose
Comments: 29
Kudos: 284





	1. Winifred Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, me again, neglecting all other wips so I can throw my hat into the ring. 3x08 was wiiiiLD and I just had to write what I hope comes next.
> 
> (And in regards to this chapter... Tbh Winifred Rose deserves someone who can keep up with her, and that person just isn’t Gilbert. Not that it’s his fault. How can you keep up with someone when you want to chase someone else? Anyway, Winnie tells our boy what's what, so enjoy that.)

The tea house was fairly empty, a fact for which Gilbert was unusually grateful. It would be good to have privacy for this moment, he decided. There was no need to make this event any more public than it already was. 

“This is rather romantic,” Winifred said, teasingly, pulling him from his thoughts.

Gilbert blinked. “Is it?”

Winnie laughed, lightly. “Don’t play so coy, Gilbert. I think we both know why we’re here, after all.”

A stone settled in Gilbert’s stomach as he looked at Winnie, smiling at him gently, encouraging, and just a little amused, like she was so certain of today’s outcome. And of course she would be. Hadn’t he met her parents? Spoken to her father? Hadn’t he given he every reason to expect this? But still, they had never really talked about it. He had thought they would have time. Time to get to know each other, time for him to make up his mind.

Everything was happening so fast. Too fast. He had felt so sure of himself when he told Bash he planned to propose, but now, with the ring burning a hole in his pocket, he no longer felt that clarity.

"I-” he began, patting his coat as subtly as he could, feeling the outline of the ring there. He took a deep breath. It was now or never. He had decided and he must follow through. What kind of man would he be if he didn’t? “Do you  _ want _ to marry me?" He blurted out.

Winnie’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting the question to be phrased like  _ that _ . "I beg your pardon?"

"It's just,” he said, scrabbling for some way to salvage the conversation. “We've never actually discussed it."

Winifred looked genuinely bemused as she sat back in her seat, studying him. "You discussed it with my father, I assumed the matter was settled."

"But I didn't ask you,” Gilbert said, leaning forward, catching her eye. “And I just want to know. Do you actually want to marry me?"

Winifred frowned, forehead creasing in thought. "I believe we will make a good match, a smart one, and I am rather fond of you. I could certainly do worse." The last sentence was spoken with her usual good humor, a smirk teasing at the corners of her mouth. “Does that answer your question?”

Gilbert sighed, and looked at Winnie, really, really looked at her, her bright, intelligent eyes, her teasing smile. She was beautiful, and clever, and everything he should want. So why did everything feel so hollow? 

"Is that really all you want? A smart match?" He asked.

She drew back at that, her smile falling from her face as she sensed just how serious he was. "Of course not, but as a woman it is  _ expected _ .” She raised a brow, as if challenging him to contradict her. “Now are you going to tell me what brought on this line of questioning?"

"I don’t know," Gilbert closed his eyes, briefly, in frustration. “It’s just, I’ve been told, over and over again, that the only good reason to marry is for love and I-” he cut himself off, and met her curious gaze with a pleading one of his own. “Do you love me, Winnie?”

Winnie smiled, knowing, and a bit sad at the edges. "I love you as much as you love me, Mr. Blythe.”

Gilbert nodded, shoulders slumping with something that felt a little too much like relief. "And that doesn't bother you?"

"Not as much as it seems to bother you." Winnie was still looking at him curiously, like he was some kind of mystery she couldn’t solve, and it was irking her. “Is marrying for love really so important to you?”

Gilbert chewed on the side of his cheek as he thought. “Yes, I think it is. Isn’t love the foundation any good marriage should be based on?”

He didn’t like the way Winnie looked at him then. Like he was out of step with the rest of the world, and she was waiting for him to catch up. “Maybe in stories,” she conceded. “But in the real world, there is far more to it than that.”

Without warning, Anne’s face came to mind, the way her hair had glowed against the fire like it was part of the element itself, her kindness, and her passion. The way she had looked at him that night on the porch. The way she had looked at him that night, at the ruins, and crushed his hopes in one, angry, horrified ramble. She hadn’t even been able to form sentences, she had been so appalled by his confession. “You’re right about that,” he said, quietly.

They were quiet for several minutes, Gilbert unsure of what else to say, and too caught up in memory, Winnie still studying Gilbert like he was a very interesting puzzle.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's terribly poor manners to ask a woman to marry you while you're in love with someone else?" She said at last.

Gilbert choked on his tea. “I’m sorry?”

Winifred raised a brow. “Are you having trouble following along? I thought it was rather obvious.”

“How?”

She rolled her eyes. “Let us examine the facts, shall we?” Gilbert could only gape at her. “You obviously asked me here so that you might propose, is this correct?” She looked at Gilbert expectantly.

“Well, I mean-” he spluttered, completely unprepared for the direction Winifred was taking them.

Winnie nodded. “As I thought. So if you came here with the intention of asking me to marry you, why haven’t you already done it? Likely because of your fixation on love, which has given you pause, and made you unsure, since you don’t love me.”

Guilt churned in Gilbert’s stomach. “Winnie, I-”

She held up a hand. “But I meant it when I said we would be a good match. We’re very compatible, you and I, and I see no reason why love might not come later. Something I’m sure you considered. Furthermore, by marrying me, you secure yourself a bright future you know you would be content in.”

He flinched, though it sounded more like a statement of fact, cool and objective, Gilbert couldn’t help but remember the way Anne’s eyes flashed angrily as she accused him of looking to buy a wife. Winifred took no notice of his discomfort, and barrelled on in her assessment like it was a diverting game, and not the end of their courtship.

“And if there was no other woman, I’m certain that would have been enough for you to propose, would it not?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “But there is someone else. Someone you love so much, you’re willing to throw all these opportunities away, just for their sake.”

Gilbert was stricken. She had laid him open so quickly, so accurately, he felt entirely too exposed with every doubt he had being laid out neatly in front of him. “I never meant…” he trailed off, trying to find the right words. Never meant what? For this to happen? To hurt her? To court her in the first place? “I am so sorry, Winifred.”

Winnie sighed, looking a bit disappointed to find she was right, and when she spoke, her voice sounded resigned. “You’re not going to deny it, then?”

“No. I- I’m sorry.”

“You ought to be. I have wasted quite a bit of time on you.” She stared him down for a moment, glaring, before snorting, and looking away. “You should see your face. You’re entirely too easy.”

“So,” Gilbert began, carefully. “Does this mean we’re alright?”

“Alright is a strong word, but I’ve never been one for holding grudges, either.” She took a breath, and met his eyes again. “In time, we’ll be alright. Though I must confess, I am a bit annoyed with you.”

“I know,” Gilbert nodded. “And you have every right to be. I should have never started courting you without fully understanding what it would mean.”

Winifred rolled her eyes. “Well, yes, I suppose I am a bit annoyed about that as well, but that isn’t what I meant.”

At Gilbert’s puzzled look, she continued. “You courted me, you came this close to proposing, and yet, this whole time, you didn’t actually want to do any of it. You just did exactly as was expected of you instead of doing what you actually wanted, loving who you wanted to love.”

“I didn’t know,” he defended himself before he could think about it. “I, well, I suppose I’m a bit stupid, really.”

“Ah,” Winnie said, a genuine smile on her face. “Something we can agree on.”

Both of them chuckle, quietly, and suddenly, it was like the air between them was clearer.

“I think it’s best if I explain things to my father.” Winifred said, rising to leave. “I wasn’t joking about the shotgun.” 

She turned to go, but he caught her wrist. “Winnie...” he stared up at her, and it was in that moment everything hit him. It was over between them, completely over. It tore him up inside to realize there was only relief in him at the thought. “Thank you.”

She smiled, a bittersweet thing, and held out her hand. "Goodbye, Mr. Blythe."

He rose from his chair, and gripped her hand, shaking it. "Goodbye, Miss Rose."

She nodded, and took her leave. And when she left the tea shop, Gilbert felt lighter than he had in months.


	2. Diana Barry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana has some things to say, Bash nopes out real quick, and Gilbert is canon-typically confused

Bash had been having a rather quiet day. Dellie was sleeping, Gilbert was in his room, likely practicing what he was going to say when he proposed, his mother was out on an errand. Bash himself had gotten out his knitting needles, determined to wrestle out a new baby blanket and not worry about Gilbert as he did it.

Those plans were indefinitely postponed when a frantic knocking sounded at the door. Bash frowned as he hurried to the entryway, and opened the door to reveal a red cheeked Diana Barry, gulping down air like a woman drowning.

"Miss Barry," Bash greeted, politely, though his eyes were wide in a surprise he couldn't quite keep out of his voice. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"I need," Diana panted, leaning heavily against the door, and holding a stitch at her side. "To speak to Gilbert. Is he in?"

Perhaps it was her imagination, but Bash looked just the slightest bit relieved that he wouldn't actually be the one who had to deal with her. She must have looked more frightful than she thought. Or maybe Diana Barry appearing even the slightest bit unkempt was cause enough for alarm. She had the sudden urge to run around town with mud on her hem more often.

Bash ushered Diana into the house, and offered her a chair, which she gladly sunk into. She had sprinted from Green Gables.

"Blythe," Bash called. "There's a young lady here to see you." He smiled at her. “It’s a good thing you caught him. He’s leaving for Charlottetown soon.”

Diana nodded emphatically. "Yes, that's precisely why I'm here. I need to tell him something I'm certain will change his mind about the whole thing." At Bash's skeptical look she clarified. "It's about Anne."

Bash frowned. "Anne? Our Anne? The one who rejected him not two days ago?"

"She didn't reject him," Diana protested. "According to Anne, she could hardly formulate a reply in her intoxicated state before he was running the other direction."

Bash pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a beleaguered sigh. "Of course he did. But why, pray tell, are you taking it upon yourself to clear up this misunderstanding? Shouldn't Anne be here in your place?"

Diana sighed, then, sounding just as frustrated as Bash. "I tried telling her that, but she will not even hear of it. She is under the impression that she is holding Gilbert back from his dream and it would be horribly selfish of her to confess to him now."

Bash groaned. "Lord save us all from those two and their foolishness." Then he turned around and yelled, "Bythe! Get down here. It's terrible poor manners to keep a young woman waiting."

Diana bolted up at the sound of footsteps finally coming down the stairs.

"Young woman?" Gilbert's voice came from the other room. "Bash, what are you talking-" he stopped short when he caught sight of her. "Diana," he said in obvious surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Anne's in love with you!" She blurted with no preamble.

Gilbert blinked, his face going slack with shock. "I beg your pardon?"

"Anne," Diana repeated, hurriedly, like she was afraid the words wouldn't come unless she forced them out all at once. "Is in love with you."

She stared at Gilbert, clearly hoping for some kind of response to her declaration. Gilbert, however, seemed almost comically rooted to his spot on the floor, his eyes were wide as he stared at Diana like he expected her to be some kind of delusion.

Bash looked from Gilbert to Diana, and back a few times before clearing his throat. "I've just remembered I have somewhere else to be." He clapped Gilbert on the shoulder as he passed him. "Best of luck."

He gathered Dellie up in his arms, and left out the back door, fully intent on going for a very, very long walk.

Diana stared at him, anxiety lining her whole face. "Oh Gilbert say something."

Gilbert blinked. "I-what?"

"Please don't make me repeat myself again. Being here is already such an awful betrayal of my dearest friend's confidences, and we've only just made up. Today, actually. Only a few hours ago, and here I am, risking it all. Again! So you really ought to appreciate me coming here at all. I-”

"Diana,” Gilbert cut in, gently, hands out like her was trying to sooth a spooked horse. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I already had a conversation with Anne, and she… she turned me down."

Diana scoffed, and put her hands on her hips. “Did she? Say that exact word?”

Gilbert frowned in thought. “Well… I…”

“That’s what I thought.” Diana said, triumphantly. “You know, for two such incredibley intelligent people, the two of you are remarkabley stupid.”

“But she did say no,” he insisted. “Or, at least, she told me we couldn’t.”

Diana sighed, looking more irritated with him than Gilbert had ever seen. Between the two of them, Anne was always the one who got annoyed with him. Diana Barry was always the milder bosom friend, but here she was, giving Anne a run for her money with that glare she levelled at him. 

“She told me all about your conversation, and it’s clear to me that neither of you are very good at communicating. Though, if I’m being fair, I haven’t been particularly skilled at it either.” She acquiesced, only to shake her head, and get back on topic. “Anne is in love with you, Gilbert. So go propose to Miss Rose if you like, but don’t do it because you don’t believe you have a chance with Anne.”

“But, if she does feel this way…” he trailed off, shaking his head, trying to come to terms with this new, dizzying information. From anyone else, he might have doubted its authenticity, but Diana was Anne’s best friend. Gilbert couldn’t help the way his stomach flipped, and hope flooded his heart. “She’s in love with me?” His voice sounded rather dazed to his own ears.

"Yes." Diana said without hesitation, conviction ringing in the word. But still, he had to be sure.

"She told you?"

She smiled wryly. "Wouldn't stop talking about it once she figured it out."

For a moment, Gilbert wanted to laugh, to shout from the rooftops that  _ Anne Shirley-Cuthbert of Green Gables _ loved him. Loved him. It was everything he had ever wanted to hear, everything he never dared hope for until recently. The whole world felt like it was spinning around him. Then it all froze as a thought occurred to him. "Then why isn't she…"

"Here?" Diana looked at him sympathetically. "She seems to have gotten this notion in her head that if she did confess, she would be holding you back from all your real dreams, and she didn't want to do that to you. She loves you too much. So she decided to break her own heart and let you go instead."

Gilbert groaned as he recalled what exactly he had said to Anne that night at the ruins. Of course she thought she was holding him back, that’s practically word for word what he had said. But it wasn’t what he meant. Not at all. "Diana. I have been so unforgivably foolish."

Diana smiled at the understanding in his eyes. "I think that remains to be seen." She said, gently.

Gilbert nodded, a relieved smile lighting his own face.

“Well,” Diana said, a bit awkwardly, like all of her momentum that had pushed her forward before was lost. “I believe I have said my piece. I will… be going now. Good day, Gilbert.”

“Yes, right. Er- good day, Diana.” The girl nodded and turned to leave. “Wait, Diana,” he called right as she got out to the porch. Diana whirled around, brow raised. “Uh, thank you. For stopping by. And everything else.”

Diana smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

If it sounded more like a warning than a pleasantry, Gilbert made no comment about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm cranking these out so fast before cannon comes along and ruins it. Two more to go! Wish me luck, I need to get them out in the next four hours XD


	3. Anne Shirley-Cuthbert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne goes full romcom and Gilbert finally gets a clue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I sort of missed my deadline, but on the bright side, the last chapter is almost done and I'll be posting it tonight, before I watch the newest episode. Hope you enjoy!

The train station was crowded for a Sunday afternoon, but Anne could hardly concentrate on anything other than avoiding getting stepped on, and the entire reason she had grabbed Belle from the barn and rode here without so much as a goodbye to Matthew and Marilla. There would be serious consequences when she arrived home, she knew, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. A frenetic feeling had set her limbs buzzing, and her heart pounding as she searched the crowd for a grey hat and dark curls.

“Gilbert!” She called when she saw him. “Gilbert wait!”

The boy in question whirled around, looking about like he was trying to place where her voice was coming from.

“Gilbert!” She called again, and this time his eyes snapped to her, and his whole body went rigid with surprise. His mouth was practically hanging open as she skidded to a stop in front of him, his face the picture of astonishment.

“Anne,” he breathed, then, clearing his throat, he shifted, trying to regain a level headedness he didn’t feel. “What are you doing here?”

Anne crossed her arms, and when that felt too awkward, she let them fall to her sides again. "I didn't like how we left things. That night."

Something in his expression closed off. "It's fine. I think we said all we needed to."

She shook her head, stepping closer to him. "I disagree. I don't think we said much of anything at all."

“Anne,” she nearly stopped short at the pain in his voice. “This really isn’t the best time.”

“It’s the only time,” Anne insisted, only to question the validity of that statement when someone on the busy platform knocked into her, making her stumble. Gilbert unthinkingly reached out to grip her elbow, steadying her. He snatched his hand back almost immediately, like she had burned him, and she tried to not let that sting. 

She was here for a very specific reason, and it was probably a good thing he was trying to keep his distance. Lord only knew she was finding it close to impossible. How had she never understood that magnetic force between them?

“Alright,” Gilbert finally said, too quiet for such a busy station, but Anne had no problem understanding him. “What is it you needed to say.”

She shifted her gaze so she wasn’t looking directly into his eyes. They doing too many strange things to her heart for her to concentrate. “Just that I’m sorry. I was confused, and caught off guard, and more than a little drunk that night, I could barely put together what you were saying, let alone what it was I wanted to say back,” she admitted ruefully. His eyes widened with understanding and, worst of all, hope. So she rushed to continue,

"Gilbert, if you had only given me time I- I would have said no." Her stomach sank at the hurt look on his face as he jerked his head in an approximation of a nod. His feet started moving him backward, away from her, and Anne's hands shot out to grip his sleeve. "Wait, Gilbert. I need you to understand. I would have said no because… because I care," her throat constricted against the word and she cleared her throat. It wasn't the right word, wasn't strong enough. But he was about to go off and propose to another woman, so caring would have to do. "I care about you too much to hold you back from everything else you've ever wanted."

Gilbert was staring at her now, a soft, disbelieving look in his eyes.

She gripped onto his sleeve tighter. "I just want you to understand. I- I couldn't leave things the way we left them because I was certain if I did you would grow to resent me, and I couldn't bear it if you did.” She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, readying herself for the most painful part of her quest. “So I just wanted to say, before you went, that you need to marry Winifred because the last thing I want is to prevent you from achieving your dreams.”

Gilbert could only blink at her. “You want- what?”

“I want you to marry Winnie,” she said, forcing a smile, trying her best to bite back the tears that were stinging her eyes. “I want you to know it’s alright if you do. I’m alright if you do.”

When she gathered up the courage to look at him again, that soft, disbelieving look had morphed into something even softer, and contemplative. He was searching her face like he was reading a book and a small, dawning light was appearing behind his eyes. That hope was back again. Anne hardly knew what to make of it.

“Anne, he said, softly. “Why did you come here today?”

Anne stared at him incredulously, annoyance bubbling up at his expense in spite of herself. “I just told you!”

He caught hold of both of her hands with his own, and drew her in closer, face very serious. Anne’s breath caught in her throat, and her mouth went a bit dry. She wasn’t used to having him so close, and certainly not while she was aware of her feelings for him. “Why did you come?” He asked again.

"Because,” Anne floundered for her reasons, which had seemed so perfectly reasonable, and vitaly important not ten seconds before, and could hardly think of what they were. “I wanted you to know. And I wanted to say, before you left, that I wish you every happiness." The familiar words stung, but she said them with far more sincerity than she had managed that day at the fair. "I wanted to say that you should marry Winifred, and I wanted to make certain we could still remain friends. That’s all I wanted.”

"That's it?” He asked, inching even closer to her. “That's all you wanted to say?"

"I-" her eyes flicked down to his lips, far too close. “What else would I have wanted to say?” She whispered, feebly.

“I don’t know,” Gilbert said, not pulling away, but, instead, reaching up and tilting her chin so she would meet his eyes. Every hair on her body seemed to stand on end as she realized how little space there was between them. “But what if I told you exactly what it is I wanted to say that night, since I obviously didn’t make myself clear.”

A rock settled into her stomach. This was not going as she planned at all. She had only wanted to reconcile with Gilbert before encouraging him to run off and propose to a woman infinitely more suitable for him than she. She had wanted to do the right thing, the noble thing, the  _ romantic _ thing and let him go. She hadn’t ever considered the possibility of him holding on. “Alright,” Anne said in spite of herself. 

“Winifred is lovely, her parents are supportive, and this is all an easy path to an easy life if I want it.” He gently turned her back to face him before she could fully look away. “And despite the fact that this opportunity is everything I thought I ever wanted, I realized that night at the ruins that it’s all secondary to me. Because there’s something I want more.” He stared at her carefully, trying to gage how his words were being received, but Anne could only stare, wide eyed, back, hardly even daring to imagine he meant what he was saying. “A life I want more. And if there was any chance I could have it, I would turn down the Sorbonne and Winifred and all of it a thousand times over.”

She surged up then, her hands naturally finding the lapels of his jacket as she pulled him close, and kissed him. Gilbert responded immediately, hands finding her waist to pull her even closer.

“Ahem!” They both looked up to see a scandalized, middle aged woman looking at them in horror. “This is a public area.”

“Sorry,” Anne said, not looking away from Gilbert, though she didn’t feel very sorry at all. If anything, she felt like everything in her world was perfectly right for the first time in a long time, and nothing would ever be wrong again. The woman harrumphed and went on her way. Anne and Gilbert barely even waited for her to be out of earshot before they started laughing.

“You know,” Anne said after a moment, laughter still in her voice. “I’m still not sure we’ve said much of anything.”

Gilbert’s eyebrows furrowed playfully. “I disagree. I think I’ve said plenty. You’re the one who hasn’t said much. And here I thought words were  _ your _ strong suit.”

A smile stretched across her lips. “I think I might be in love with you, Gilbert Blythe, and I don’t want you to go propose to Winifred.”

The teasing glint in his eyes were gone, and, in fact, Gilbert looked a bit dazed and winded at her confession. And then he was smiling with her, huge and happy. “I think I might be in love with you, too, Anne Shirley-Cuthbert.” The final boarding call being shouted across the station interrupted their moment, and her grimace, looking at the train like it had done something to personally offend him. “But I do have to get on that train.”

Anne blinked, as though finally coming back to herself. “Oh.”

“I need to set things right with Winifred and the Roses,” his hands came back up to hold her own tightly. “I’ll be as quick as I can.” He promised.

Anne smiled. “I’ll be here when your train comes in,” her smile dimmed as something occurred to her. “Unless, of course, Marilla’s cross enough with me for running out earlier that she forbids me to come.”

Gilbert raised an amused brow. “Oh?” He prompted, making Anne flush.

“I may have, perhaps, been rather pressed for time and so, may have, perhaps, not told Marilla where I was going. Or even that I was going at all.” Guilt made the statements come out more like questions, and Gilbert laughed, shaking his head. “I had some important things to say.” She defended, indignantly.

“I’m glad you did,” Gilbert said, pressing a quick, unexpected kiss to the back of her hand before tearing himself away when the train whistle shrieked insistently. “I have to go,” he said, though his whole face spoke of how much he regretted that he did.

Anne rolled her eyes, unable to keep the grin off her face as she shooed him away. “Go,” she urged. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Gilbert stayed outside the compartment as the train started to move, staring at her like that promise was the best thing he had ever heard. As Anne waved at him until the train had disappeared completely from her view, she thought, perhaps, it was the best thing she had heard, too.


	4. Gilbert Blythe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pens, man, pens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! Well, this had been fun. I'm off to go get emotionally compromised and watch the latest episode. Thanks for reading!

Gilbert found her the night he went to Charlottetown, taking a walk down the lane that lead to Green Gables.  _ Lover’s Lane _ , she had called it. He had been hoping to find her at home, in fact, it was precisely the reason he was making his way to the Cuthbert’s at such a late hour. He had only just gotten back from Charlottetown, and he desperately needed to speak with her.

“Anne,” he called, and her head immediately shot up, her eyes wide when she saw him making his way quickly towards her.

“Gilbert,” she said, her voice sounding a bit strangled. “What are you-?”

"I couldn't do it." He blurted out, stopping a reasonably safe distance away from her.

"What?"

Gilbert blew out a breath, and pulled a hand through his hair. He hadn’t exactly planned on what he was going to say after he got to this point. "I had the ring,” he began, a wild emotion in his eyes that really wasn’t like him at all. “And I had a speech prepared and I was going to go through with it, I was-"

"Gilbert-" Anne interrupted, sounding pained.

He held up a hand. "Please," he said, so earnestly it nearly still her heart. "Let me finish." 

Tongue too heavy in her mouth, Anne only nodded and guestured, a bit helplessly, for him to continue. 

"I was going to ask her," he said, lowly. "But then I realized…"

"Realized what?" Anne prompted, softly, not quite trusting her voice. Her feet moved of their own volition, bringing her closer to him.

Gilbert blinked hard, as if coming back to himself, and patted the front of his coat until he produced something and held it up in front of her. "That I needed to give you this," he said, holding it out as an offering. The metal glinted in the moonlight as Anne blinked at it.

"A pen?"

"I forgot to give it back."

"You could have just kept it.” Anne said, weakly, though she did take it from his hand. She looked down at it for a moment, considering, before she looked back up at him. “Do you really mean to tell me you didn't ask the woman who holds your future in her hands to marry you because you wanted to give me back my pen?"

"Yes."

Anne furrowed her brow, clenching the offending pen in her fist. "That doesn’t make any sense, Gilbert!"

"I just…” he sighed, closing his eyes, trying to collect himself, then he met her eyes, a determined look there. “It made me realize I don't want it."

"Don't want it?” She stared at him, mouth open in disbelief. “What are you talking about? This is your dream, your every desire and want made real, and you realized you don't want it? Just like that?"

"That's just it though, Anne, it wasn't my every want and desire made real. It never was.” He shifted, uneasily, from foot to foot as she considered him, weighing his words.

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at,” she said, at least, sounding tired, even to her own ears. “I never know what you’re getting at because you never come out and  _ say _ it.”

"I know,” he said, looking pained. He began pacing in front of her as he continued. “What I'm trying to say, what I tried to say that night at the ruins, is that Winifred offered me the easiest path to exactly what I wanted and it wasn't until I almost had it that I realized it wasn't what I really wanted."

"You're not making any sense."

"I think this is the most sense I've made in a long time. Because I understand now.” He stopped in front of her again, this time much closer than her had been before, and when he spoke again his voice was soft. “I finally understand."

Anne let out a hysterical little laugh, backing away from him on instinct. "Understand what? You said it yourself, Winifred could have given you everything you ever wanted, and she was beautiful and sophisticated and intelligent all on top of that. Why would you ever turn her away?"

"Because she wasn't you." That stopped her in her tracks, and Gilbert took advantage of her surprise, closing the distance between them again.

Anne's gaze snapped to his, and he gathered up her hands in his, holding her there, anchoring her to him.

"If I'm going to share my dream with anyone I-” he broke off, staring down at her earnestly. “I'd want it to be you, Anne. I'd want it to be you."

Anne blinked hard, trying to break the spell he had cast on her with those words, tried to will her heart to stop pounding. "So what?” She wrenched away from his hold, turning her back on him so he couldn’t see the look on her face. “You just jumped on a train from Charlottetown because you decided want to propose to  _ me _ instead? Gilbert that’s-"

"I’m not proposing,” he interrupted quickly, a gentle hand coming to rest on her shoulder, and Anne let him turn her around. “Not right away. We both still have college and there's  _ your _ career to think about too. But eventually, I- yes. That is the direction I would like us to go."

He was looking at her again, like she wasn’t the one thing holding him back, like she wasn’t his second choice, but like she was the center of his whole universe, and it threw off her whole center of gravity.

"You're right.” She said, trying to sound firm. “I do have my own career to think of. And my own dreams. I won't just wait around and help you fulfill yours like I don't have other things I want to do."

Gilbert smiled, his hand tracing the curve of her shoulder. "I'm glad."

Anne scrambled to find another point to argue, tried to ignore the way his touch ignited something in her whole body. "And I would never be a proper wife. I talk entirely too much and I have far too many opinions to not share them."

"I'd expect nothing less." His hand came to cup her the back of her neck, and they were drawing ever closer.

"We'll fight." Anne pointed out, weakly, too preoccupied with how close he was to think of anything else to deter him from whatever madness had struck him.

"I look forward to it." He said, simply, and then he closed the distance between them.

Their kiss was nothing like the stories she read, where the world suddenly stopped, and fireworks went off around her. The world went on as it always had, but Anne could hardly be bothered by any of it when Gilbert had his lips pressed gently against hers. Her arms came up to pull him closer without her quite understanding what she was doing, hands landing on his elbows. She stretched up on her toes as he leaned more firmly down and it was like every emotion, every sorrow, and joy, and unspoken word between them was being poured into the kiss. 

Anne was hyper aware of their every point of contact, of the way the sleeves of his coat felt bunched underneath her fingers, the heat of his hands as his thumb ghosted over her cheek with a tender sort of reverence. And his lips, moving so softly against hers that she thought she might combust from it all.

After a few moments, she felt him smile against her mouth, and her lips stretched in answer. Instead of pulling back, he kissed her firmly once, twice, and rested his forehead against hers. Air was suddenly scarce for both of them, their chests rapidly rising and falling from the kiss and the absolute elation they both felt bubbling out of them.

They kept their eyes closed, savoring the quiet, neither able to suppress their matching, soft smiles.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." Gilbert breathed, finally leaning just far enough away to look her in the eye. His hands stayed cupping her face. Anne didn't let go of her grip on his sleeves.

_ I love you _ , she wanted to say.

The words were there, at the back of her throat, rising up, burning her tongue with the  _ need _ to say them. But all of it felt too new, too sudden, too fragile, too soon.

So instead, she smiled, happy and satisfied. "I may have  _ some _ idea. Only some-" she hurried on at Gilbert's raised brow. "I really only figured out how I felt rather recently all things considered."

"And how do you feel?"

"I feel… that you are one of my best friends, which is odd, and not exactly based in sense because we haven't really been friends, have we? At the very least, I haven't always been the friendliest to you-" she cut herself off, closing her eyes briefly against the tangent. "But, somehow, in spite of everything, I think of you as… as someone who matters to me. Very much. And if you were to somehow disappear from my life, there would be a hole there, where you had been. One I know I would never be able to fill again. Not with anything or anyone else."

He studied her a moment, and one of his hands drifted down to play with the end of her braid as he thought. Anne's breath caught in her throat as she looked back, completely entranced by the look in his eyes. Had he always looked at her like that? Like the Earth could spin right off its axis, and it wouldn't even matter because the hold she had on him was more powerful than gravity? 

"You matter to me, too." He said, at last.

To Anne, it sounded more like all those words they couldn't say to each other. Not yet.

It sounded like  _ I love you _ .

And it was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote! Thanks for sticking around. I mostly just had to get all these fan theories off my chest and out into the world.
> 
> Also kisses are hard XD Did their kissing scene have a Small Umbrella from Little Women vibe because it wasn't intentional, but reading it back, it's totally there. Whatever, it's cute.
> 
> Thanks again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Are they in character? Is that really the point? LOL
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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